I loved this, and The Secret Pianist moved me deeply. The word that comes to mind is fragile. The music seemed to slide off the keys like tears. The hesitation to ask who the pianist was. And the pianist themself—the mere chance of being seen might have scared them into silence forever. How delicate this world is, where a pause, a hesitation, or the courage to reveal oneself can be as fragile as rose petals still clinging to the bud.
Thank you! It is my favourite too. I try to reach that point again, but it is not easy. It was a very special vibe that particular morning I wrote it, I guess. And I need to find the vibe in order to find the text.
that slightly offbeat gait which could be heard in the corridor from so far away it was as if I were marching in three-time? “Oh, the drummer is here,” said the girl in the stairwell, and I was, so to speak, on the same note—laughing at our inside joke because I was inside and not out.
A very lovely diversion. There's something quietly poignant about "Dare to choose your path, Charles, and the path will choose you. It is on this that the writer finally reflects as he sits down to write, and he writes."
The final story has similarities with something I once wrote about the experience of seeping into the night. An intriguingly universal experience.
Well, not necessarily. It's a nice book, something I'll get my daughter to read when she's older, it's a lovely introduction to philosophy written in a very accessible way. I was only asking because that's where I first heard the word bagatelles - the author uses it a lot!
I really enjoyed The Secret Pianist. It is very impactful. The ending has poignancy. The story has an elegiac quality. Music is one of those things that is enigmatic in the way it impresses upon us. What is taking place when a piece of music moves us? Is it really just physics and chemistry, or is there an incorporeal nature to it? Your story is impactful because it captures something we all have experienced with music (and the prose is good as well) :)
Thank you! What you wrote about music’s mysterious power, how it affects us beyond what can be measured, is exactly what I was trying to capture. That sense of something intangible yet deeply personal. And thank you for the kind words about the prose too, it truly means a lot!
Hi E. I notice we begin with missing accents and end with lost crows. As you point out, I’m not a native English speaker, but I do my best because I want to be understood by as many people as possible. Our language is small and the world is so big, and now I can finally communicate with readers in Australia. How amazing is that? Thank you for eating my baguettes; as you can tell, they’re well baked.
I loved this, and The Secret Pianist moved me deeply. The word that comes to mind is fragile. The music seemed to slide off the keys like tears. The hesitation to ask who the pianist was. And the pianist themself—the mere chance of being seen might have scared them into silence forever. How delicate this world is, where a pause, a hesitation, or the courage to reveal oneself can be as fragile as rose petals still clinging to the bud.
Thank you! It is my favourite too. I try to reach that point again, but it is not easy. It was a very special vibe that particular morning I wrote it, I guess. And I need to find the vibe in order to find the text.
I miss this world. I was born too late.
Or it happened too soon.
that slightly offbeat gait which could be heard in the corridor from so far away it was as if I were marching in three-time? “Oh, the drummer is here,” said the girl in the stairwell, and I was, so to speak, on the same note—laughing at our inside joke because I was inside and not out.
A story alone within a whole story
Thank you for noticing!
It is impossible, when music is well played, not to pick up its rhythm through the body’s inherent pace.
Sometimes I even think my heart agrees to beat closer to its grace.
I'm still kind of new to the etiquette of the Substack ecosystem, but I'm quoting this today! Glad to have found your newsletter.
A very lovely diversion. There's something quietly poignant about "Dare to choose your path, Charles, and the path will choose you. It is on this that the writer finally reflects as he sits down to write, and he writes."
The final story has similarities with something I once wrote about the experience of seeping into the night. An intriguingly universal experience.
Thanks for sharing, Jörgen.
Thanks for reading, Theo. I agree, there’s something about a story that becomes its own story …
Have you ever read Sophie's World?
Actually not. Should I?
Well, not necessarily. It's a nice book, something I'll get my daughter to read when she's older, it's a lovely introduction to philosophy written in a very accessible way. I was only asking because that's where I first heard the word bagatelles - the author uses it a lot!
Love them. There is a tiny dollop of Fernando Pessoa in them, I might think.
Such a compliment! Thank you!
I really enjoyed The Secret Pianist. It is very impactful. The ending has poignancy. The story has an elegiac quality. Music is one of those things that is enigmatic in the way it impresses upon us. What is taking place when a piece of music moves us? Is it really just physics and chemistry, or is there an incorporeal nature to it? Your story is impactful because it captures something we all have experienced with music (and the prose is good as well) :)
Thank you! What you wrote about music’s mysterious power, how it affects us beyond what can be measured, is exactly what I was trying to capture. That sense of something intangible yet deeply personal. And thank you for the kind words about the prose too, it truly means a lot!
Love this: 'Very seldom do you get a second chance at a first.'
I haven’t had this fun on the internet since 2015.
Thank you. I genuinely enjoyed these. All three in different ways.
Hi E. I notice we begin with missing accents and end with lost crows. As you point out, I’m not a native English speaker, but I do my best because I want to be understood by as many people as possible. Our language is small and the world is so big, and now I can finally communicate with readers in Australia. How amazing is that? Thank you for eating my baguettes; as you can tell, they’re well baked.